Christmas Liaisons
by Lolo84
Summary: 'Tis the season to be jolly. To give and to appreciate. To spend time with family and all that jazz. Not to wind up in bed with my ex-husband, which is exactly what I did, all because of a not so simple wish from our youngest daughter... E/B. Romance/Family/Friendship
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, Loves!**

 **Let's chat at the bottom :-)**

* * *

I heard the sounds of feet padding down the hallway, the small tornado making its way to my room. Burrowing myself deeper under the blankets, I laid stock still and held my breath. I had hoped that if my sweet, but way too energetic, daughter thought I was sleeping she'd go on her way.

It didn't work.

The door creaked. I waited for a loud whispered, "Momma are you sleeping?" But that didn't come. Less than a minute later the bed dipped next to me and her little body scooted closer. I smiled and opened my eyes, blowing my cover. Only smiling wider when her pretty brown eyes stared back at me, hopefully.

"Good morning, Momma," she whispered, loudly, like usual.

"Morning sweetie." I moved some hair away from her face and felt her forehead. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, scooting closer. "I just wanted to see if you wanted to play with me before I go to daddy's house."

"Tempting." I grinned at her drooping eyes. "Maybe let's take a quick nap first?"

"Okay."

Yawning, she closed her eyes and two minutes later her body sagged against mine, her mouth dropped open letting out soft snores. I pulled her closer into my arms, resting her head on my shoulder, as I tried to run my fingers through thick tangled brown hair. Similar to mine in color and texture, her curls felt unmanageable at times. And chasing her after her shower to comb through it wasn't always my thing.

Another set of heavier footsteps stopped right outside my door a few minutes later. "Mom?"

"Come in," I said, reaching for my phone, which had died, then searched out the small clock in the corner. It was pushing close to 8 o'clock. On 'the weekends' that was sleeping in around these parts.

"Where's dad?" Victoria, my oldest, asked speaking my thoughts out loud. It wasn't rare for him to show up here before the sun came up, anxious to get his time with them started.

"Did you call him?"

"No." She stomped in, throwing herself at the foot of my bed.

Calm moments like this with the three of us were rare, but I loved and lived for them.

Weekday mornings consisted of last minute lunch making and rushed conversations; Shuffling through the laundry for what to wear, or tired yawns around Pop Tarts and toast. As much as I wanted to be that mom who got up early to make a big hearty breakfast every morning, I couldn't do it all the time. And thankfully the girls didn't seem to care too much.

Nearly an hour later the doorbell rang, startling me out of a surprisingly deep sleep.

"Girls." I shook the bed. "Go get your things. That's probably your father."

Their mumbling and grumbling made me smirk. They definitely got their love of staying in bed from me.

The doorbell rang again before I could get to it, which annoyed me. Edward never had the patience to just wait and that clearly hadn't changed no matter how much time passed. "Hold on, I'm coming!" I yanked the door open.

What, or who I should say, I expected on the other side wasn't what greeted me.

"Tanya?"

"Hey, Bella." She smiled, while I did my best to hide my scowl.

Tanya was one of the sweetest people I had ever met. Her love for my girls was clear without being overbearing, and she'd always been kind without being sugary sweet. Slim and a few years younger than me, she had the kind of natural prettiness others would kill for.

She was also my ex's girlfriend and no matter how much I wanted to like her, I didn't. We were friendly enough, but we would more than likely never be friends.

"Edward asked me to pick up the girls. Is that ... is that okay?"

I honestly had no idea how I felt. I knew of her existence, met her several times, and heard her name falling out of Irina's mouth a lot, but I didn't even know she knew where I lived. This was a new development, a new level to their relationship I supposed, and there was nothing I could do about it.

"Girls, Tanya is here!" I shouted out to them as her answer.

Irina ran up first, throwing her little arms around Tanya's waist. "Hi, Miss Tanya!" It was a sweet thing to see, in theory. Both warming my heart and shredding it all at once. My little girl loved everyone who loved her. Plain and simple. No questions asked, no hidden motives.

"Hey, sweetie. Ready for the zoo?" Tanya bent to her level and fluffed her hair.

"Yay!"

"Hey." Victoria barely acknowledged Tanya then turned to give me a half hug. I would have to ask her about that later; whether she was just being a sully teenager, or if she had a legit reason to give Tanya the cold shoulder. "Later, Mom."

"Bye, sweetie."

"By, Momma." Irina squeezed my waist, too. "Love you."

"Love you, too, baby."

I waited for the inevitable, 'mom I'm not a baby,' but she must have sensed the tension and let me have this moment.

I stood by the door until they drove away, waving back with a silly smile when Irina pushed her face against the back seat window.

Weekends were easier now, something I never thought I'd be able to say. For too long the feelings between me and their father were too raw. The pain and anger on both sides constantly simmering under the surface. "The exchanging of the kids" was a fucking spectacle and at times the longest few minutes of my life. Or just the same there were days it was the quickest when we rushed through forced pleasantries because neither one of us wanted to spend more time in each others presence than necessary.

But it's crazy what a difference a few years make. Where our face-to-face exchanges aren't always to recap events of the week or which kid was sick and needed their medicine doled out just right.

Between anger and animosity, the conversations became light and friendly. General concern replacing resentment.

I often wondered though how fake we were. Then. Now. If we've truly said all the things we've wanted. If our being cordial was sincere or because we knew what was expected.

Our friends and families had their theories with silly speculations about wayward glances and awkward silences. I wondered if they shared them with him the way they shared it with me. And what he said if they did. It made me smile: thinking about the old times with all of us, remembering the era before all of this.

But this is what we were now, better than before but not where we once were.

And depending on the day, I battled if I was okay with it.

#

"So how's it going?" The aforementioned friends asked me later in the day.

I slumped on the couch, exhausted and agitated from a failed shopping trip.

"Tanya picked the girls up from my house today," I blurted out even though in my mind I'd planned to complain about my search for this stupid hatching animal toy Irina wanted.

Rosalie's eyes widened, noting the same significance I felt this morning. It took her husband—my good friend—Emmett a long time before he trusted her with his daughter and it was at that point we all knew things had gotten serious with them.

Alice snorted and shook her head. Loyal to a fault, even though she'd known me and my ex equally as long, she hated every single girlfriend he'd had since our divorce.

To be fair, she'd never been fond of the people I tried to date, either, but I'm sure Edward didn't have to hear it the way I did.

Alice was, in addition to the girls, someone we had joint custody of. She refused to take sides and let it be known she prayed for both of us to succeed while secretly hoping our other relationships failed.

"She's lame."

"Alice, be nice," I admonished, only half meaning it.

"What? She's literally the lamest person I've ever met."

"She's nice," Rose said.

"Fake," Alice coughed into her fist.

The three of us had a strange dynamic. Rose played the role of the optimist and Alice the cynic.

Alice was the one who'd been there through everything, seeing every bit of my ups and downs, both with Edward and just life in general.

Rose had come in right around my worst, when I was divorced but still hurt, and fresh off a break up with a nice guy who loved me but I didn't love him back. Irina wasn't in school yet, and Victoria was going through a terrible phase where she seemed to hate the world. I was on the brink of a nervous breakdown and barely holding it together most days, and now that we've gotten things under the semblance of normal Rose assumed I'm doing great.

She had no idea about my life before then; when it was as perfect as any life could be.

Now when she looked at me, I was at least better than when we first met.

But Alice and I knew the truth. I would never be where I'd been which killed.

And it made for interesting perspectives on the same topics. I appreciated the hell out of both.

The opinions and the women behind them.

#

A few weeks later, on Black Friday to be exact, I was home alone and cleaning while the girls were on a shopping trip with their Grandmother.

I missed them most weekends when they went with their dad, but times like today I was thankful to have the house to myself. This way I got to deep clean it in a way that Irina couldn't manage even when she tried and that Victoria didn't ever try. She wasn't a messy kid, and I didn't consider myself a neat freak. But her tolerance for how long you could go without sweeping a floor far exceeded mine.

I was pulling last year's Christmas junk out of the shed, while also spring—well winter cleaning—when a small box caught my attention. Familiar but like in a distant memory, I'd seen it before but couldn't place where. I opened the flaps of the box and looked on with confusion. It was stacked with drawings that screamed Irina's style, envelopes, Birthday cards and one unopened letter addressed to Santa.

I'd faked mailed every other letter to him so I had no idea how I missed this one.

Until I opened the letter, and with merely a few words was nearly knocked on my knees.

One simple wish. One thing I wasn't sure I could give my daughters.

We didn't have much, but we also had plenty.

I thought I had been doing a good job but this letter to Santa, that got missed in the shuffle or hidden from me on purpose, broke my heart.

Swallowing my pride, I knew what I had to do.

* * *

 **A/N:** **So, yeah, this is a wannabe one shot that turned into a short fic that I'm calling my "Kind of Christmas Fic." There are no angels or ghosts of Christmas past, but there will be some ugly sweaters and spiked egg nog. That counts right? There's no angst. Told only from Bella's POV, and will post daily over the next few days.**

 **You could hit me up on Twitter (Lolosofocused) or FB: (Lory Wendy) with any questions. Leave me your thoughts!**

 **~Lo**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just trust me ya'll! Say it with me … "I trust Lolo" :- )**

* * *

His house wasn't far from mine. So twenty minutes later I found myself parked on my ex-husband's driveway trying not to have a panic attack. I seldom came this way, and now that I was here, everything in me screamed I shouldn't have bothered.

I knocked on the door and waited. Rang the doorbell and waited some more. His car parked out front pointed to him being here, and though the thought he might be asleep crossed my mind, mid-day naps weren't his thing.

Maybe they were now? I doubted it.

Taking out my phone, I called him, noting he hadn't answered my text telling him I was dropping by to talk to him. A realization hit me. Maybe he _was_ inside but busy … with Tanya.

I gulped, sick at the thought. Backing away, I turned back to my car. What had I been thinking? This was so not a good idea.

The lawn mower roared as he turned the corner of the house; coming into view and stopping my movements toward my escape.

It was a sight I'd never seen.

Landscaping companies were a dime a dozen in Florida, and during our marriage, Edward had happily shelled out 30 bucks to have someone else mow the lawn for us. Even when we didn't have it.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I knew I should be bothered. Chores were never his thing, so if he wanted to turn into a guy who rode around shirtless and sweaty and cutting the grass, why couldn't he have done that for me? For us.

But I wasn't annoyed. It was ... oddly gratifying seeing him this way. He still had it. Always would. Only growing into his looks even more as the years wore on.

"Bella?" His voice, loud and panicked made me jump. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Huh?"

"Are the girls okay?"

"They're fine." I furrowed my brows then realized _oh right, I've shown up unexpectedly_. "Sorry. Sorry. Yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something real quick."

He let out an audible breath as his hand went to his chest ... and that's when I saw it. The now fifteen-year-old tattoo sitting prominent on his left peck. I stared at it longer than what should have been normal, sending things into a spiral of awkwardness.

"Bella?"

"Yes?" I snapped my attention to him.

Deep green eyes stared back at me, amused and arrogant. "Did you want to come in?"

No. Yes. Maybe. "Sure."

I followed behind him, averting my eyes everywhere but at the defined—and fairly new to me—muscles on his back.

"Did you want something to drink or anything?" Edward offered, letting me inside.

"No, this shouldn't take long." My eyes finally followed him around the house. I smiled because I knew there was no way he'd decorated it himself. It had his mom written all over it. The same way my living room did.

"I found this in some of Irina's old things." I slid the envelope over to him as we both sat at his dining room table.

"Dear Santa," he read out loud, "I've been a good girl this year. Promise. So all I wants is for mommy and daddy to be together again and spend Christmas with me together. Amen."

He smiled a little and I knew it was at how she mixed up the letter with her prayers. It would have been cute if the letter hadn't torn me apart.

He was quiet for a moment; either reading over the letter multiple times or struck dumb like I had been.

"How old is this?" he whispered.

I had no idea, but from the way her scrawl had changed over the years, I would guess it about 2 years old.

"That's not all." I cleared my throat. "Those flowers ..." I pointed at the letter. "Looks like something Victoria would draw. Or used to draw. A couple years ago." It seemed to be a collaborative effort, writing the letter and hiding it. Irina wouldn't know any better to hide; sure it'd be for Santa's eyes only. But Victoria knew the truth. And as admirable as it was that she wanted to protect her little sister from disappointment, it gutted me she'd been put into a position to hide this from me.

"I thought things were good. That things were ..." He didn't finish his thought and didn't need to.

I didn't know exactly what to make of it either. I felt like a failure on certain things, but with this Edward and I had done everything in our power to make sure the girls had both of us in their lives. Equally and as often as possible. This wasn't a failure thing, I tried to convince both of us. It was a wish I'm sure every little girl has.

"Which brings me to why I'm here." I sat up a little straighter, trying to exude confidence in my request. "I want to give this to her. To them. I want us to spend Christmas together."

The silence that followed was excruciating and quite frankly unexpected.

"Bella ..."

"I know it's technically your year to have them for Christmas, so I don't want to ruin that, but—"

"Bella, I don't know if this is such a good idea," he interrupted sternly.

The air whooshed out of me.

It dawned on me I hadn't expected him to say no. And I felt a disappointment and frustration I hadn't prepared for.

"Why not?" I protested.

"I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea." He folded the letter but didn't push it back toward me.

"Tanya can come, too." I cringed, instantly wanting to backtrack. I didn't want her to be a part of this, but I guess in a way I had to get used to it now.

"Tanya?" He spluttered. "She has nothing to do with this."

"I'm just saying. All Irina wants is for us to spend the holidays together as a family, and you're acting like it's a big deal. Why? Because your girlfriend might get the wrong idea?"

"Me and Tanya broke up over two months ago."

Confused, I looked around the room—that reflex action of wondering if anyone else heard that. "But she was just at my house a couple weeks ago picking up our children."

"I was having car trouble and no one else, including you, was answering the phone. It didn't matter to how my kids got to me, as long as they did. I don't know," he shrugged, "I figured the girls would have told you."

" _You_ should have told me."

"Why?"

"Why?" I swear it was like explaining common sense to a five-year-old sometimes. "Because, Edward, it's important for me to know who is and isn't around my kids! That's up to you to tell me, not them!"

"Well, she's not around your kids anymore. Problem solved."

"But—"

"Why are you here, Bella?" He narrowed his eyes at me, slamming his fist down on the table. "What do you want? This could have been a phone call. A text even. You didn't need to come over here just to start a fight."

He was downright hostile, an emotion I hadn't seen in him in years, and one that still didn't look good on him. We were in such a good place now, I'd almost forgotten all about his crazy temper and didn't want to open that can of worms. Not now or ever.

"I should go."

"Bella, wait." His arm darted out stopping me like a hurdle.

"It's okay. Just forget it."

"I'm sorry I snapped." His voice was low. Soft. "I … have a lot going on right now and I was really, really looking forward to Christmas with the girls. You threw me off that's all."

The reasoning made absolutely no sense. I wasn't trying to take the girls away from him, just asking him if we could figure something out together. But he heard what he wanted and reacted based on that.

Typical.

"Don't be mad," he pleaded, grabbing my hand. "I can't handle you being mad at me right now."

"I'm not mad, Edward," I whispered going along with the new vibe. I was done being mad at him. The quota for that had been reached years ago.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping on his exhale. I don't remember the last time I ever saw him this broken, and for the moment, my frustration dissipated.

"Hey." I gripped his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Bella, I'm so sorry."

He wasn't only apologizing about snapping—that much was clear. What wasn't clear though is what the hell was going on with him. I wanted to ask, but almost didn't want to know.

While a lot had changed, us being there for each other hadn't, so whatever was going on, he'd tell me when he was ready.

My hand stayed on his shoulder, his arm around my hip, and my eyes trained on his chest.

He hadn't put on his shirt, and I hadn't asked him to. But the fact he still had his tattoo of my name both turned me on and made me sad. He'd gotten it the day after his 18th birthday and a few days before he proposed. It was forever like we were meant to be and the sweetest thing anyone had done for me at the time.

"I should go," I repeated, making a beeline for the door. This was all too much. Too many emotions hitting me at once.

As I reached the door knob, his hand clamped down around mine, stopping me.

"Was there anything else you needed?" he whispered from behind me, close enough I could feel his lips at my ear and chest at my back.

My entire body tensed.

I knew him. Knew his moves and what he was doing. Which is why I should have moved away, yanked my hand out of his hold, and walked out.

But I didn't.

"Edward," I warned.

"Are you sure you want to go?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" he moved my hair from one side of my neck to the other.

His lips were a perfect combination of hard and soft as he dropped a kiss to my shoulder, my neck, then right behind my air.

His moves hadn't changed and apparently neither had my reactions to them.

I turned to face him. Slow and deliberate. Like my mind and body were in cahoots trying to give the other one enough time to back out. Too bad not all parts of me partook in this discussion because the aching need between my legs overpowered everything else.

His mouth lowered to mine at the same time I tilted my head up.

The frame on the wall next to us shook as we slammed against it, my arms in the air—trapped between his hands—nearly knocking it over.

"Oh, God!" I breathed out, knees buckling as his hands slid down my pants, fingers already at my flesh.

He was so slick, so quick, that I hadn't even noticed when he'd unbuttoned them.

This was bad.

Really bad.

Wrong.

A mistake.

I knew this. Felt it somewhere inside of me. But here I was horny and legs wide arching into his palm. "Yeah. Yeah."

"Bella?"

"Yes!"

A question, an agreement, and things understood in a way that didn't need explaining.

He grabbed my ass, picking me up to straddle him, and carried me off. My hands were everywhere. In his hair, roaming his back, grabbing at his chest. I didn't care if I fell at this point. I just… needed to touch him.

He threw me on his bed, climbing on top of me with a growl. When we stood side by side, he didn't tower over me but in bed he always felt like he did

"Umm…" I put my hand to his chest, stopping him. A small bit of sense coming back to me.

"It's a new bed."

That's all I needed to hear to send my hormones back on over drive. But the air from earlier shifted immediately. The small amount of caution that existed before gone and replaced with assured touches and kisses, heated looks and silent commands.

There were no words exchanged—Edward had _never_ been much of talker in bed—the only noises filling the air were moans and pants, the headboard in sync with the sound our skin made pushing and pulling against each other.

It was an angry kind of fucking, I suppose. An undertone of something else brimming beneath the surface.

He hissed, pulling out of me slowly and I quickly turned on my knees without prompt. An upside to knowing someone so well and anticipating their needs.

I knew the exact moment when he noticed it. That the _Edward_ script on my back to match the bold BELLA he inked on his chest was now covered up with an obnoxiously large pink and purple flower.

Quick and nearly bruising, he gripped my hips thrust forward so hard my hands flung out against the wall to brace myself.

One thing I always loved about Edward was the things he taught me and shared with me. How when I had to drop out of school, he would make it a point to tell me something new he learned that week. I was _always_ learning from him. Even still, even in this moment.

Because without him, I could never debunk the myth that there was nothing better than makeup sex.

It wasn't true.

Make up sex wasn't the best kind of sex.

Hate sex was.

* * *

 **A/N: So now we've met Edward. Thoughts? We'll learn a little more about the split and other things soon, buttttttttttt ... what did you think? I'm sure we all saw this coming. The summary gave it away after all :-D**

 **Thanks so much for reading and reviewing and alerting and all that stuff! I always forget how much I miss it. And I was so amped to see some familiar names / faces reviewing I almost did a little twerk in my seat. Thank you, old friends, for still rocking with me! Gah!**

 **I see some of ya'll are worried but don't be. You trust me, right? :-)**

 **~Lo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **A/N: Full disclosure … I read over this while tipsy and scarfing down Christmas cookies. Let us pray that it all makes sense! :-p**

* * *

"Girls, your dad is here!" I shouted after the uncharacteristic honk. He always came to the door, but now I guess he didn't want to have to see me. It hurt a little, but the truth is I wasn't sure if I could handle seeing him either.

"Later, Mom."

"Bye, Momma!"

I got half hugs and kisses on the cheek before they darted out of the house, greeting their dad at the end of the driveway. They were going to Six Flags, and taking Jayne—Emmett's daughter—with them which thrilled the hell out of Victoria because it wasn't the zoo again. And Irina was ecstatic that she got to bring one of her little friends along, too. Today there were no grumblings and mumblings to wake them up or pouty faces as they drove away.

They were oblivious to the royal fuck up of their parents and I was beyond thrilled with that fact.

"So, you guys haven't talked?" Rose asked after she conned me into coming over her house to help bake cookies.

Two weeks had passed since I slept with Edward, and after a minor freak-out at Alice's house the next day, I'd done my best to put the whole thing out of my head. Unsuccessfully I might add. Now it was Rose's turn to hear the scandalous details in person; putting things at the forefront of my mind all over again.

"No. I guess he's icing me out," I replied.

"Can you blame him?"

"Thanks a lot."

"No, I'm just saying… it's not like you're tripping over yourself to talk to him about it, either."

"Hey, Bell." Emmett walked in the room, dropping a kiss to the top of my head.

"Hey, you. How's it going?" I greeted him with a friendly smile.

He was another friend Edward and I shared, but I would definitely say he stood by Edward more than he had me. I was a little jealous in the beginning—he was _my_ friend first, I would say to myself—but soon after those feelings settled I was happy Edward had him.

"Oh, you know." Emmett shrugged his burly shoulders, opening their fridge. "Just got verbally assaulted by my ex. But what else is new, right?"

Rolling her eyes, Rose turned to me. "Supposedly she wanted to take Jayne to some concert today. Which she only called about this morning. _After_ Jayne had already left. So naturally, we did it on purpose, even though we had no clue about it, and it's not even her weekend."

I never liked Emmett's ex, Siobhan. And she'd made it clear the feeling was mutual. She was an expert at winning people over with extravagant gifts and superficial compliments, but she never showed interest in anything more than the shallow shit. But people loved her because she was familiar, and she's still a part of Jayne's life because the courts say so. Other than that, I doubt Emmett would still deal with her and the one-off phone calls to match the monthly cancellations.

"It's all over Jayne's Facebook," Rose added. "Pictures of them at the park. So she obviously knew Jayne wasn't here. She just wanted to pick a fight."

I nodded. I'd seen pictures on Victoria's page, too. Irina and her friend looked like they were having fun, though not as much as the two older girls and Edward looked exhausted.

Amateur.

He should have known better than to take two teenagers and two 8-year-olds to an amusement park without reinforcements.

"Go away, honey," Rose cooed at Emmett. "We're having girl talk."

"I love girl talk."

"Babe."

"What?" He blinked. "I already know about Edward and Bella's 'I don't see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind' session."

We both stared at him, mouths agape, eyes wide. And it took everything in me not to fall to my knees and beg him for every bit of information he had about what Edward told him.

"What?" he smirked, too fucking smug for my liking. "Dudes talk, too."

"What. Do. You. Know?" I asked, in a fairly scary and deep voice. I sounded possessed.

"Nope!" He put his hands up, backing away. "I'm staying out of it."

"Mrs. Cope," I threatened, staring him down.

He gasped. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

I wasn't bluffing.

Always careful about what cards I played over the years, I saved them for when I really needed the upper hand. Turns out that no matter how old you got, the prospect of people finding out you spent the night accidentally drunk cuddling and nearly making out with your high school girlfriend's grandmother still held weight.

"Okay fine," he relented, taking a seat and straddling the chair backward. "This is what I know. And this is _all_ I'm going to say. It took Edward a long time before he could say or hear your name without wanting to cry or break something or both. And I can't even remember how long it took before you looked normal again after everything went down. What went down … it gave him hope. So please, _please_ , don't drag this shit on again unless you're trying to work something out with him. I can't watch ya'll go through it again. Shit, I can't go through it again with you guys, either."

Rose looked on with furrowed brows as I listened to the lecture I'd been expecting.

It was always hard to explain to people who hadn't witnessed it themselves about the different acts of mine and Edward's love story.

Part 1 was the classic High School sweetheart story. We started dating right after my 16th birthday even though I'd been in love with him since I was 12. He was the jock, and I the girl popular enough to be invited to the same parties, but not enough to be considered prom queen. We were small town kids, with big city dreams and simply making it out of Port St. Forks was a big enough deal for us and those we would leave behind. We married right out of high school, and got off campus housing when we started college. And during our freshman year, I relished in getting to correct our professors who would call me "Miss Cullen" that no, no it was " _Mrs._ Cullen." Thank you very much.

Things were great, until they weren't.

Part 2 came when reality hit. When halfway through my sophomore year at Florida University, I got pregnant with Victoria and by the time I watched Edward walk across the stage at his grad school graduation, I had two kids, no college education and the only thing bringing groceries in the house was my EBT card. By the time I'd realized I resented him it was too late.

When I filed for divorce he didn't contest. And when he asked for every weekend with the girls, I didn't object.

That was the thing with our divorce. Our terms, at the time, created the most amicably tense divorce there was. Our friends and family were impressed with our maturity, they said, showing unbidden praise for the way we handled things.

But the truth is we weren't cool with our decision, at all. We simply had no fight left in us.

Which leads us now to Part 3: Co-parenting and friendly, though we still made a point to avoid being alone with each other as much as possible. And after Lawn-mower-gate (as Alice called it) I understood why.

Because that's the thing with time ... years passing might heal all wounds. But it doesn't erase feelings.

They were all there; like my barely covered up tattoo. Brimming under the surface was my unconditional and irrevocable love for Edward.

"So what are you going to do?" Rose eventually asked after Emmett left the room.

That was a good question.

* * *

When I got home, I scrolled through Victoria's Facebook wall, again, wanting an update of their time at the park.

I kept stopping at one picture.

One of her dad.

It was a cute one of him, that seemed to tell no story to the outside world, but he had a cheesy smile on his face playing it up for the camera. Maybe even laughing at an inside joke between the two of them.

There were likes and comments from little teeny boppers about her having a DILF for a dad, and I was too mortified to think about it and switched to something else.

This is pretty much how I passed time the rest of the evening. Watching TV. Lurking on the internet. Reading a little and lazing around.

 ** _I have your kids. You guys need to talk. - Rose_**

Huh?

The text came out of the blue and made no sense. Calling her quickly, I growled at her voicemail when she didn't answer.

 ** _What are you talking about? What happened? Talk about what_**? I texted her back.

I called her again, back to back, knowing she would answer eventually.

 _"_ _Hello?"_

"Is everything okay?" I asked, grabbing my keys.

 _"_ _They will be."_

"Why do you have my children?"

The doorbell rang before she could answer, and I slid on my shoes making my way to the door. "I'm on my way to your house now." I hung up, flinging the door open.

"Umm … hey."

 _Edward._

Suddenly Rose's text made sense. She took the kids to give Edward and me some time to talk. She was a good friend, but this was something I was _not_ ready for.

Edward had a bottle of wine in his hands and a sheepish smile on his face.

 _Lord, give me strength._

 _Lord, don't let me do anything stupid again._

 _Amen._

"When I dropped Jayne off, Rose invited the girls to stay for dinner. She said she would bring them back to my house later."

"Yeah, she texted me."

"Cool." He nodded, hovering in the doorway.

"You can come in you know."

He shuffled in and stood in the middle of the living room, seemingly having no clue where to sit.

"Wherever is fine." I nodded.

"My shorts are still a little wet from the park."

"That's fine."

His eyes widened a little but he still sat on the couch, sizing me up like it might be a trick. Thing is, his messiness never bothered me and didn't cause any of the fights about housework. It was me having to clean up _after_ his messes like he was a child that irked my nerves.

"We probably shouldn't open that." I pointed to the bottle of wine.

"Right." He shifted in his seat.

"So, what's up?" I was eager to get whatever talk was coming over with.

"I wanted to talk to you about what you asked me."

"About us doing Christmas together?" I asked hopefully.

"Yes." He changed his position on the couch, again, and I wondered whether it was nerves or discomfort causing him to be so fidgety.

"So?" I hedged.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but I can't."

Damn.

"I know you think I'm being stubborn or even prideful." _True. "_ But that's not it. Consider it self-preservation if you want. But I can't spend Christmas with you and the girls and pretend like we're some big happy family. Honestly, it's almost not fair for you to ask me."

"But I—"

"Please let me finish," he whispered.

Biting my tongue, I waved a hand, gesturing for him to go on.

"How many times have I invited you over to my parent's house for Thanksgiving or random dinners and you said no? Or when we first split … remember? You wouldn't even agree to joint birthdays because you said you didn't want to give the girls false hope or that you couldn't because 'it's too hard.'" His nostrils flared and I had to look away. Come hell or high water this would not become a fight. "And now," he shook his head, "Now, because what? You're in a good place things are supposed to just be easy for everyone? What makes you think it's easy for me being around you?"

I never thought about that aspect of it—his "possible feelings" about being around me. I didn't want to admit it, but I had to. "I guess I assumed…"

"Assumed what? That I was over you?"

"Well, yeah." I shrugged, finally staring back at him.

"Never."

"But it's been ... years. And you've moved on." A couple times I might add.

"I've _tried_ to move on, yes. And so have you. Ben. Tyler."

"Tanya," I reminded him, bringing us back to the present. "Are you going to tell me what happened there?"

"Nothing happened. It just didn't work out."

"Who broke it off?" None of my business as it may be, I hadn't seen a break up coming. If it was sudden and her decision, leaving him heartbroken, I needed to know if I'd been nothing more than a rebound.

"I broke it off."

I hummed and said nothing else. There would be no sympathy coming from me—no condolences about their now dead relationship. I would always love him and wanted him to be happy. Didn't mean I wanted to _see_ it rubbed in my face.

"What about you, what's going on with you?" He tapped my foot with his.

"Meaning?"

"Well, are you _dating_ anyone?"

"Why is it that when it comes to me you say it like it's a bad word?"

"You know why."

Yeah, I guess I did.

If you asked me, Edward moved on a lot quicker than I had. But according to him, I was the one who got into a serious relationship first, marking the true end of our relationship.

That was only partially true.

While neither of us had handled the other one dating all that well, I kept my comments between my friends and to bitching at Edward. He flat out got in Tyler's face one day and for no reason other than testosterone. He'd always had a bit of a short fuse but with my dating he became a flat out asshole who wanted to fight every man rumored to want to ask me out.

Lame.

It pissed me off to no end how he was willing to fight random strangers because of male pride but never fought when it had mattered most.

"Why didn't you fight for us?" The question was years too late, but I needed to know. Back then it wasn't something I had the courage to ask, but now I could handle the truth. Was there someone else? Did he want out of the marriage? The thoughts plagued my mind for longer than I would ever admit.

"I'd put you through enough," he admitted, sadly. "You were so unhappy. Everyone could see that. And … I don't know. I guess I figured the one thing I owed you was to let you go peacefully. Would it have mattered, though?" He added after a few moments of silence. "If I had fought, would things have been different?"

I wanted to say yes, but that's how I felt now. Back then, I might have been aggravated, just like he said. "I don't know. Right now I would say yes. Back then ... probably not. I probably would have been pissed that you waited until the end to try and fix things."

"Thanks for the honesty."

"Of course."

Life went on around us for a few minutes of silence, me gazing out the window, and Edward with a hard stare to the floor.

"Would I be rocking the boat if I asked you something else?" His voice dropped to a timid whisper.

"Edward, you can ask me anything you want. You know that."

He took a deep breath and another moment passed before he turned to face me. A look in his eyes I used to call his rehearsed confidence. "Were you still in love with me when you asked for the divorce?"

"Edward, I'm still in love with you now."

My confession came without hesitation, and his slow nod let me know it wasn't that much of a secret either.

Love, I've said to so many people who've asked, often has nothing to do with divorce. Of all the reasons Edward and I didn't work out, us falling out of love wasn't on the list. You could love someone nearly more than your own life but it didn't mean you could live with them day in and out without losing some of yourself in the process.

We were kids playing house when we first got married and by the time we were old enough to know better we were too defeated to put any of it to practice.

"If I knew then what I know now ..." I shrugged.

He shrugged, too. "Same."

This wasn't the first time Edward and I had a sit-down talk since we split, but this time felt like old times. Putting aside the topic of conversations, the familiarity was nice. Speaking freely and just being ourselves. No fear of repercussions for speaking our minds.

"I should probably get going." He stood with a sense of finality and I wondered if this was all too good to be true. If things would now go into a Part 4 where there was nothing but awkwardness and tension.

"I have something for you ... in the car."

I perked up, beyond intrigued. "What is it?"

"Hold on." He ran out and came back in. I watched through the window as he ran to the passenger side of the door, sifted around in the glove compartment, took several deeps breaths, before running back inside the house.

"I was going to wait until Christmas, but ..." he handed me a small, flat, oval box. "Maybe just wait until I'm not here to open it?" I didn't understand the look in his eyes, but I agreed anyway.

"I'll wait."

We were both by the door now, staring at each other, waiting for the other to officially end things first.

"Well, thanks for the talk," I said. "I mean, I'm kind of bummed but I get it. And I guess since we never promised the girls anything we're not really breaking any hearts."

Just our own.

"I really am sorry. I wish I could. But …"

"It's okay," I said.

It wasn't okay. I really wanted this for the girls—for me too—but I also understood where he was coming from.

"Thank you." He laid a soft, sweet kiss on my cheek. Took a few steps then turned to look at me. "Bella, I wanted to ask you something," he said, looking more nervous than I'd seen him in a long time.

I took a few steps out my door to get closer to him.

"You said that if I had fought harder, you might have stayed with me."

"Right?"

"I guess I'm just wondering ... if that's the case then why didn't you ever give me another chance?"

The words tumbled out of my mouth before I had the chance to refine them, before the idea of holding them back had the chance to cross my mind.

"Because you never officially asked for one."

* * *

 **A/N: So yeah ... it's been a few years, at least, since they initially split. And just for clarification, they've both tried dating and moving on during that time. Not just Edward** **:** **-** **)**

 **For those who wondered why they divorced, it was too much to point to just one thing so I hope this chapter gives some answers about where they were at that time in their lives. To go into detail would cause this to be angsty IMO ya know? And we don't want none of that in my "Kind of Christmas" Fic. :-p**

 **Anyway … hope you liked some insight into the aftermath. And I hope I answered some questions. Leave me your thoughts! One more chapter left. Then an Epi.**

 **Thanks for reading**

 **~Lo**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello loves! Happy New Year!**

* * *

"I'm having a Christmas party this year!" Rosalie announced as if she hadn't thrown something together every year since we met her.

"Well, yeah."

"No. No." She shook her head. "A party, party. Not just a dinner or something chill. I want everyone to get wasted, and wear Christmas sweaters, and exchange gifts but forget them at the end of the night because we're so trashed! I want to dance and act crazy. All of that."

That _still_ sounded like every other year, but I didn't want to shit on her happiness and nodded, playing along.

I'd originally planned on wearing something low-key. But in light of recent events, my ugly Christmas sweater ended up being an ugly Christmas Sweater _dress_ accessorized with high furry boots and a Santa hat, reindeer antler combo. I looked absolutely ridiculous and loved every second of it. If the McCarty's were having a contest for best dressed this year, the prize was mine. It didn't hurt that my ass and legs looked great in this getup. You know ... for reasons.

"Hell yeah!" Rose shouted when she saw me.

Alice and I glanced over at each other, silent conversation passing through our stares. Rose had always been one for a good time, but not this much. And that's the thing with best friends, right? Even if you didn't know what was bothering them, and when they tried to act like all was good, you still felt _something_ in the air.

"This place looks great!" I praised Rose and Emmett. There were not one, not two, but five Christmas trees around the house; Mistletoe hanging from every doorway; Fake snow sprayed on the windows; Food, candy, and liquor everywhere. It was Pinterest popping in every corner and I was in awe.

"It's all her," Emmett pointed to Rose, then spotting someone over my shoulders smiled. "Be right back."

"You okay?" I asked her, squinting my eyes to focus. I may have been a few drinks in at this point but not too far gone to sober up for a serious conversation.

"Yeah, why?"

"You're acting a little—"

"Don't look now but your baby daddy just walked in," Alice popped up beside us.

Naturally, at her instructions not to look, all three of our heads whipped around toward the front door.

Whenever Edward walked into a room it was like he owned the place. As if everyone had been waiting for him to arrive for the party to begin.

Even when we were younger.

Even now.

Rose and Alice focused back on each other, talking amongst themselves, while my eyes followed Edward around the room. This would be the first time I saw him since our talk, and I didn't expect the way my heart thumped against my chest.

He looked ... well, a little dorky in his Christmas outfit: red obnoxious sweater, bright green pants, and garland around his neck. But he was beautiful—in that too handsome for his own good kind of way.

As if sensing me creeping, Edward's gaze darted up and locked with mine. Lifting his hand in a half wave, he smiled sadly before stopping to talk to a group of people huddled near one of the larger trees.

"Have you guys talked?" Alice tapped my shoulder.

I turned my attention back to her, glancing in Edward's direction one more time. "No. Not since the last time."

"You mean when he all but asked you to ask him to ask you for another chance?"

"That's not exactly how it went, but okay."

"Say that five times fast," Rose giggled. "Ask you to ask him to ask you. Ask him to ask you to ask him. Dammit. Ask him to ask—"

"Rosalie, we get it," Alice snapped with an exasperated look. "Focus."

"Sorry."

"No, please don't," I begged at their pitiful smiles. "We're fine. I'm fine. Edward and I … we'll talk. We talked. And things are…"

"Fine. Yeah, yeah."

Alice didn't buy it, but Rosalie nodded, wandering off to fill up her glass and mingle with her guests. My head was already hurting and I knew—as far as the girls were concerned—this conversation was not over.

I wasn't looking forward to it.

#

I don't know who was avoiding who, but somehow Edward and I kept our distance for the entire first half of the party. He mostly sat in the same chair, talking to whoever approached him first. Eating after Alice force fed him and drinking whatever shot Emmett handed him. He did absolutely nothing to initiate conversation with anyone and it was weird.

As my husband, he'd always been the life of the party. Something I loved in the beginning but loathed by the end.

But this Edward was almost unrecognizable.

"Hey, Bella."

I turned toward the voice, smiling at a pair of unfamiliar blue eyes. "Hey … _you."_

"Garrett." He pointed to his chest. "I work with Emmett."

"Right. Right. Of course," I agreed still having no clue. "How's … the family?"

"Good! Good! The kids are great." He whipped out a phone, displaying pictures of a couple of teenagers. "Eleazer made varsity this year and Carmen got accepted to Columbia."

"Wow!" Impressive as those stats were, I'd never seen this man before in my life.

"So how's work?"

I did my best to keep up, answering his questions while refraining from asking any of my own. That didn't seem to stop him though as he went on, and on, and on about nothing.

"My throat's dry," I blurted out.

"Oh, I'll get you some water.

"No, I got it!"

I rushed off, slumping over the counter when I got to the kitchen. Good God someone needs to give that guy an off button for Christmas.

"Hiding?" Emmett came in, Rose hot on his tail.

"Yeah, I actually am," I admitted. "Your friends talk too much."

"Not all of them." Emmett narrowed his eyes. "Can you please go talk to my boy now?"

Fuck no. "I just spent that last 20 minutes talking to him!"

"What the hell—no, I mean Edward. He's been moping around and shit for the past two hours wishing you'd talk to him."

"Did he say that to you?"

"He didn't have to. And you know what ... Ya'll really need to figure this out 'cause you're killing my vibe." He stomped off.

"Ohhhh. You're in trouble," Rose sang, pouring out another drink and offering me the bottle.

I frowned at the vacant spot Emmett was just standing. "Is he really mad at me?"

"He's just worried. But truth?" She sipped her drink, before staring me down. "I _am_ actually a little pissed at you guys."

"Whaaattt?" I laid a hand on my chest. Aggression was not in Rose's job description. That was typically Alice's job.

"If you guys are happy apart—then so be it. But what are you doing? You're entertaining conversations with Emmett's lame co-workers to make Edward jealous, and he's sitting in corners moping and gawking at you. You guys are my best friends and you're not having fun at my party because you're being ... you're being ..." she huffed, taking a large gulp of wine. "I can't think of a good comeback right now. But you guys suck."

She walked off and I was both shocked and pissed. I was not talking to Garrett to make Edward jealous.

Is that what he thought, though? I hoped not. No one needed that kind of problem today

With a quick glance at my reflection on the fridge door, I ran my fingers through my hair, fixed my bra and made my way back to the party.

"Hey!" I greeted Edward, in the same damn chair he'd been in most of the night.

"Hey." He perked up and smiled, gesturing to my dress. "Nice."

"You too." I pointed to his equally ridiculous but awesome ugly sweater vibe and sat next to him.

"So..."

"So."

"Yes?"

"Go ahead."

Jesus Christ. We weren't even this awkward as teenagers. I figured things would be so much smoother since our talk. Guess not. Rose and Emmett were right. Even at our worst, this was not us. Never had we let our issues make our friends uncomfortable, at least not intentionally, or keep us from being civil while in the same room. If I could help it, that wasn't about to change now.

"You opened it?" He wrapped his hand around my wrist, fingering at the diamond shaped paper clips. A real replica of the fake bracelets he used to make me in homeroom over 20 years ago.

"I waited a whole day," I defended. He only asked me to wait until he wasn't there. Not until Christmas.

"You like it then?" he asked, hopefully—eyes finally at ease.

"I love it." I smiled, holding his stare. "So apparently we suck."

"Huh?"

"They're mad at us." I sought out Rose and Emmett who turned the minute I caught them staring.

Edward snorted. "Subtle."

"Yeah, for real."

"Bella—"

"LET'S DANCE!" Alice boomed pulling both of us from the chair. Saved by the friend.

"Thank you," I whispered.

She nodded and winked. _You owe me._

The rest of the night passed by exactly like Rose had wished. We danced and drank and acted like we weren't all old enough to know better. I got some whacked out can opener from the White Elephant gift exchange and Emmett got my gift certificate to get a mani-pedi. The Lord works in mysterious ways like that. Because Em probably needed it more than anyone else in the room did.

"Has anyone seen my keys?" I all but dumped my purse out at the end of the night, searching.

"Yes." Emmett nodded and walked off.

Umm, okay. "Well, where the hell are they?" I shouted after him.

"You are in no position to drive. Guest room."

"But—"

"Now."

"Fine."

Too tired to argue, I stumbled to the guest room, throwing myself on a perfect bed. It was a cloud-like mattress and pillows stuffed with angel feathers.

Two minutes later, the door opened and an "Oops" followed.

The voice unmistakable.

"Edward?"

"Bella?" He flicked on the lights. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not drunk!"

"Whoa, okay. You're not drunk."

I smiled, pleased that he saw things my way. "What are you still doing here?"

"Well I _am_ drunk, so I wanted to cool off before I drove home."

"You didn't even drink that much." Did he?

He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "Yeah I kinda did. Plus the eggnog was ..."

"Oh, no." That's what I switched to after I started feeling too drunk.

"Yup."

"Emmett," I accused. I loved him, but he spiked everything. While I should have known better, it didn't even dawn on me this time.

"Nope. His douchey friend Garrett."

"He wasn't a douche!" Was he? Oh, God. Why is the earlier part of the night blurry?

"Sorry." Edward rolled his eyes. "Didn't mean to offend your new little boyfriend."

Huffing, I flopped back against the pillows, ignoring him. Maybe one day he would let go of his jealousy, but for now I wouldn't comment on it.

"Aww man." He stretched across the bed. "I am getting way too old for this shit."

I agreed with a groan, already knowing I was going to hate life in the morning. We weren't _that_ old, just old enough to know that hangovers were the equivalent of death sentences now.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he asked.

I lifted my arm, then dropped it—my way of saying yes.

"I didn't really see you eating that much, you want me to grab you something before Rose packs it all up?"

I felt around the bed for where he was. My hand landed on his shoulder, so I inched my fingers across his neck, then to his face. When I felt his lips twitch, I curved my palm around his mouth. "Shhhh..."

Chuckling, he yanked on my arm and pulled me to him. My body curved around his instinctively. As if it belonged, as if it had always had a place here.

I tensed. "Edward."

"Shhhh..." he echoed, teasingly.

We laid there in silence absorbing the moment. Or in my case too scared to disturb it. This was ... good. But also really bad. The memory of us together was still fresh on my mind. Every inch of my flesh hyper aware of how close we were.

"Bella, I lied to you about something," he whispered.

I waited for his confession, bracing myself for the worst as I counted ten breaths before he spoke again.

"There's a reason it hasn't work out with me and ... well anyone." He whipped his shirt off.

Immediate understanding dawned on me, as I splayed my fingers across my name. I couldn't be the one who constantly saw another woman's name marked on my man. And Edward would have been too stubborn to cover it up just to please someone else.

It had to be a sore spot. I was always there, more than just in spirit, literally in between him and his girlfriends.

A part of me was pleased as motherfucking punch. Another part, struggling.

"I can't believe you still have this."

"Yeah. I can't believe you covered yours up," he replied, sadly.

"I had to."

"I understand."'

But I wondered if he really did. How could he? I barely understood it myself most days. And while the years, and the cover-up job, have given me _some_ closure, it's yet to bring full acceptance and understanding to the failed marriage to the love of my life.

I leaned in slow, dropping an open mouth kiss on his chest. Something coming over me that he didn't seem to mind.

"Are you ever going to cover yours up?" I asked.

"Never."

He answered more than one question, and as much as I wanted to turn my brain off to what it all meant. It was hard.

"Stop." Edward brushed some hair away from my face. "Please stop overthinking everything. At least for tonight. Please."

"Okay."

It was ... different than last time. The vibe in the air not as emotionally charged. This was giddiness, and drunkenness, and a sense of 'who the fuck cares' let's be crazy for one night.

But there was an ever present ache in my heart that served as a brutal reminder of our reality. I wanted nothing to do with real life tomorrows', though. Just me and Edward and our bubble right now.

He rocked into me slowly, my legs lazily opened and wrapped around his waist. The both of us holding onto each other like we had all the time in the world.

Fluttered kisses at my neck made me giggle, the action making me clench around him.

"Shit." He pulled back, stilling.

"Sorry." I giggled some more, not sorry at all. "You know I'm ticklish."

"Laughing at a time like this would give most dudes a complex."

This, for some reason, only made me full out laugh louder.

"Seriously?"

"Edward!" I squealed, when he hoisted me off the bed, bringing us to the wall.

"Laugh now."

Oh shit.

There was absolutely no way anyone else staying the night didn't hear us.

The noise of my back hitting the wall was only rivaled by Edward's deep grunts.

I scratched the shit out of his back, while he sucked purposely on my neck. Passionate and intentional, we were both aiming for temporary marks that would signify a more permanent branding. The marks would fade, and tattoos could be covered up, but for the time being anyone who looked at us would know someone else was here.

"Tell me you love me," he begged, hips thrusting up, lips panting and pleading at my ear.

"Oh, God."

"Tell me."

Sobering up from my drinks from earlier, let me know that's the worst possible thing to say right now and somehow I found the strength to keep the words to myself.

I didn't give in and say it, and he didn't ask a third time.

Hearing it was moot, though. I knew he knew.

So I said it in other ways that wouldn't shatter my heart or his. Through my kisses, the tight squeeze of my thighs around his waist.

The way I begged—almost out of character— _harder, harder,_ and let him know I was his. That every part of my body belonged to him.

"It's yours," I answered him, skin tingling, sweat pooling at my temple.

"Who's?"

"Yours!"

There was a time I would have, sadly and admittedly, just wished for us to 'get this over with.' His stamina a blessing and a curse on long, tiresome days.

But tonight … after my body and nerves and pleasure crashed into each other, over and over, and Edward held on to me, loving me, fucking me, and claiming me in all the ways he used to. As well as in some ways he never did, I didn't care how tired I was or how sore I knew I would feel in the morning… I prayed there was a way for this moment to never end.

* * *

I woke up dead.

At least that's what it felt like.

I was hurting from inside out, both starving and sick from a hangover. I would never drink again—a promise I'd made and broken to God many of times—as long as this feeling went away.

"Shoot me."

"Bella?"

"Whoa!" I sat up and groaned, falling back to the pillow when the room spun. "Edward? What are you still doing here?"

"Good morning. Are you okay?" I heard the smirk and a few seconds later felt something, his finger I presumed, poke at my neck.

"No," I whined into my hands. Shit was surely going to be all kinds of fucked up now. Part 5 of our story would now likely be some sort of transition into fuck buddies or something.

"Merry Christmas Eve."

"Merry Christmas Eve, Babe," I muttered. Then froze. _Shit._

"Babe huh?" His long fingers wrapped around my wrist, trying to pull them away from my face. I fought a little, but he was stronger, and when he pulled my hand away I closed my eyes.

"Bella?"

"Bella's not here."

"Open your eyes. Please."

I opened one, then the other, glaring when Edward looked back at me with a smug smile.

"Yeah?"

"If it's still okay with you, I want to spend Christmas with you and the girls."

My heart soared, and if I wasn't half lying on the bed there was a good chance I would have done some cheesy victory dance.

Instead, I shrugged, hiding my smile. "Meh. I think that would be okay."

* * *

 **A/N: Yay! Did you guys really think Irina and Victoria (and secretly Edward and Bella as well) wouldn't get their wish from Santa? Well … there was a version that they didn't get it right away (Mwahahah) but I figured I'd be nice :-) Thanks so much for reading! And the rec'ing and the sharing and all of the things! Oh, how it makes my cold, dead heart swell. Love ya'll! *kisses***

 **Just a small Epi left.**


	5. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

"No way!" Victoria shouted, running circles around her brand new Christmas gift. We were all outside, on the driveway of our new house—a new start for new memories, we had explained to the girls.

Irina was sitting on a chair she'd dragged from inside, looking on with practiced boredom, since

showing too much emotion wasn't cool enough for her and her pre-teen ways. Though, thankfully, went it was just the two off us, she easily let her guard slip.

"A new car? Seriously?" Victoria looked back at me for the fifth time.

"Yes." I laughed, at her infectious happiness.

"Only if you keep your grades up," Edward added as I heard the door shut behind me.

Two seconds later, whining to my right caught my attention, and I simultaneously smiled and huffed as chubby hands opened and closed reaching out to me.

"Come on, dude."

"Man, he's fussy today." Edward frowned.

Aro was our newest addition. Our 'happy surprise' we called him because according to my mother it was blasphemy to call any child an accident. At two-years-old he looked more like Edward than any of our other kids, and was the son Edward always wanted but never admitted to. He loved having the "Daddy's Girls" but I assumed most guys wanted that son who carries on their legacy and all that.

Too bad Aro was a complete momma's boy.

"Don't you want to play catch with me?" Edward tried bribing him with one of his new footballs.

"No!" Aro answered with force, clenching onto my neck. "Mommy."

I chuckled at Edward's exaggerated disappointment. It's not like Aro never wanted him. He was still the fun Dad. So Aro mostly clung to me for things like food and when he needed his ass wiped.

"Wanna go see sissy's new car?" He tried another bribe. Aro still wanted nothing to do with. "Okay fine. I get it." Edward chuckled, hopping on _his_ Christmas gift. "I bet my wheels are faster than yours," he teased Victoria.

She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. "Oh, because a riding lawnmower is so much cooler than my new car. Whatever you say, Dad."

Edward coughed in his hand, smirking my way. His other—now broken—mower was more than likely where Aro had been conceived as I'd conveniently made sure our new place had an obnoxiously large yard he was forced to mow weekly. And you know … so the kids would have space to play.

Anyway.

We were back together but not remarried, even though he's proposed and I've said yes.

Our real reconciliation didn't happen the four Christmases ago when he caved into spending it with me and the girls, but things changed soon after. The progression had been so smooth it was still unclear who initiated it more. Though I say it was me... Thanks to the letter and my raging hormones.

Still, we weren't taking any chances now—older and wiser and all that jazz—so once a week, we cuddled up on a couch pouring our hearts out to each other and the psychiatrist we paid to deal with us. And every other week we saw her on our own, making sure the mistakes of ode' weren't repeated.

Hoisting Aro higher on my hip as he buried his head on my shoulder, I smiled as Irina finally put her phone down to go sit in her sister's car. I chanced a glance at Edward who winked at me before diving into the back seat, making a lame dad joke about calling shotgun.

Things weren't perfect, but they were great, and though the girls stopped writing Santa, I knew they'd both gotten their wish.

I know I had.

* * *

 **That's all she wrote folks! Thank you so so much for rocking with me for yet ANOTHER fic; almost five years to the day that I posted my first :-o It's insane how fast time flies.**

 **Thank you for the recs and features, reviews and shares!**

 **Until Next Time**

 **~Lo :-)**

 _(Facebook: Lory Wendy)_


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